


I'll give (my all)

by Peasantaries



Series: Novellas [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub, Guide!Grantaire, Miscommunication, Multi, Pining, Scenting, Sentinel!Enjolras, Soul Bond, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peasantaries/pseuds/Peasantaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"However, this sceptic had one fanaticism. </em>
</p><p>  <em>This fanaticism was neither a dogma, nor an art, nor a science; it was a man: Enjolras. Grantaire admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras." - <em></em></em></p><p>Victor Hugo, <em>Les Miserables<em></em></em></p><p>    <em>**</em><br/>Grantaire is Enjolras' Guide: his mated pair, his other half. If only Enjolras could see that.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about by a multitude of things - mainly that there are no (or at least very little) Sentinel and Guide E/R fics in this fandom, which, c'mon. Our fearless leader leading the revolution - how is he anything but a Sentinel?
> 
> And also, I've really gained a feel for Grantaire's perspective lately for some reason, and been inspired to write it. There will be alternating POV's throughout.
> 
> I'm tentatively posting the first chapter, and if I gain a lot of response, there will be more, but I'm also writing a lot of other fics at the moment that I'll update if this doesn't garner much attention
> 
> Also, I feel I should point out that this is my first Les Mis fic, and I'm extraordinarily nervous about the characterisation - please be kind to me!

> _What would I do without your smart mouth?_  
>  Drawing me in, and you kicking me out  
>  You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down
> 
> _What's going on in that beautiful mind?_  
>  And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me,  
>  But I'll be alright
> 
> John Legend, _All of Me_

 

Grantaire and Enjolras are something that they do not discuss.

From the outside, it's clear that they both dislike each other. Grantaire drinks and scorns, sits and sneers at the words Enjolras passionately executes. And Enjolras will grind his teeth, tense his jaw and question why Grantaire comes at all, why he even _bothers._

But Grantaire watches Enjolras; his eyes never stray, never leave that constantly moving figure.

Sometimes, when Enjolras is occupied or distracted, a look so heated, so burningly intense will come across Grantaire's features, that to even glance at it feels like a violation of something private.

And Enjolras will ignore Grantaire's mocking, will steadfastly not even flicker his eyes to him, but on the nights that Grantaire doesn't come to the meetings at all, there is a line of tension along Enjolras' shoulders that wasn't there before.

He holds himself differently - stiff, pained. His expression is tight when Grantaire isn't there, his words, although still passionate, less energetic.

Enjolras is an incredibly patient man for a Sentinel, he exudes the air of a calm, controlled leader; but Grantaire is the only one that can make him lose his well-controlled temper. He's certainly not indifferent, despite his best attempts.

And when Grantaire reappears again, Enjolras will be looser, freer in his movements, his expressions alive with more vivacity, more passion in himself. As though Grantaire brings him to life.

None of these things suggest anything explicitly - nothing of their encounters points directly to any one emotion. But it's true that it's something. Each aren't complete without the other.

Courfeyrac is the jester of the group, he enjoys diffusing the tension, extracting unwilling laughter, and many times it's been inappropriate. Bossuet is a glowing ball of delight, always smiling, always happy, and it's often infectious. Bahorel is a man of humour, and always has a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue. They're a rowdy bunch, and they tease each other restlessly.

But for some reason, nobody broaches the topic of Enjolras and Grantaire. They are all aware that that is something beyond them.

That is, until Enjolras begins to lose himself.

*  
*

He's sat in the cafe, watching the others laugh and chat amiably, and he turns his head to Combeferre, only to have his gaze caught by the overhanging light.

There's a moth perched on the bulb, the soft glow illuminating the way it's wings flutter gently.

The action is so subtle, silken wings flickering. Enjolras blinks languidly, his head titling to focus.

The movements seem to slow, sluggishly, as the light burns his eyes, but it's so soft, hazy, and the moth is so graceful, peaceful. He feels a warm wash of contentment watching the small creature, feels his eyes blur, his vision sway.

He doesn't remember much after that, only when he snaps into sudden awareness, it's with Courfeyrac leaning over him in concern, Combeferre behind him, and behind them, the rest of Les Amis, all standing there watching.

"Enjolras."

He looks down sharply to find Grantaire, closer than expected, holding his wrist and applying pressure to his pulse point. "Enjolras." He calls again, but his voice sounds far away, underwater.

He slips into blankness once more.

*

Sentinels have elevated, hyper acute senses. Their sense of touch - so that they can experience every texture, every minute detail of any material, of any object - feel the roughness from a grain of sand, every thread in a silken scarf. Their sense of smell - so they can scent things from miles away. Hear beyond the normal human range, see with sharp acuity from any distance.

Most Sentinels only have two or three senses elevated, with the rarest being those highly functioning, all five of their senses enhanced.

A lot of people see this as a gift. A true gift, and one that shouldn't be taken lightly, underestimated or discarded.  
Because the powers can becoming overwhelming. They can send a person into a fugue state, and in severe cases, comatose. Without a tether to the world, without an anchor, Sentinels can be left brain dead for years.

Rows and rows of them line hospital beds, kept alive simply by machines. Unresponsive, catatonic. Still, emotionless, lifeless.

Most senses come online during puberty, and the longer spent without a Guide, the longer those senses can spiral downwards.

Enjolras is a five sense Sentinel aged twenty two. He's already beginning to feel his senses slip.

*

When he wakes again, he's lying on soft sheets, cotton against his bare skin. He turns his face into the pillow and focuses, zones his awareness inwards.

He's in his apartment. He isn't alone.

He listens to the steady thrum of Grantaire's heartbeat as he fusses in the kitchen, the slow, even drum. The sound pulls him up from the last dredges of unconsciousness, and he breathes easier, lulled by the familiar cadence.

After his zone-outs, Grantaire usually stays with him for a few hours before returning to his own home.

Grantaire is a powerful, unbonded empathetic with the ability to soothe any Sentinel, and although they both dislike each other, often unbearably so, Grantaire is kind enough to help him through these times.

He is weak, vulnerable, slightly delirious, and afterwards, embarrassed by his behaviour, but to his surprise, Grantaire never mentions his brief episodes.

He knows to be quiet, his movements soft and careful. The waft of food breezes into the bedroom; the scent of lentils. Soup. He sighs blissfully, relaxing bonelessly into the bed.

"Enj?" Grantaire calls softly.

He turns his head, eyes peeking open to slits. "Mmm." He rumbles.

There's a huffed chuckle. "Alright." The edge of the bed dips down as he sits, holding a steaming bowl. "Up. Time to replenish."

He ignores the soup in favour of dragging up a leaden hand and clumsily bumping Grantaire's cheek.

He feels the heat of his flush against his fingers, and smiles deliriously, closing his eyes and rumbling contentedly deep in his chest.

"Right, you." There's a note of embarrassment, or possibly self consciousness in his tone, oddly, and Enjolras can hear the distinct way his pulse picks up.

He inhales, and through the haze of vegetables, he's able to pinpoint Grantaire's unique scent.

Grantaire's scent is unlike anybody's he's ever witnessed.

Most people he comes across smell of some part of their daily life - the disinfectant from their hospital ward, newspaper ink and blotting paper from the office, and a thousand other incriminating scents that give them away. The stale toothpaste they used in the morning, their astringent perfume hastily sprayed, and all the other small things that come with living.

His close friends each have their own distinct scent, of course; Combeferre with his comforting, clean linen smell, Courfeyrac and his warm almond-nut fragrance. Joly and Bossuet both smell of each other, or possibly the same, because they're a mated pair, Sentinel and Guide. Jehan perpetually smells of flowers, and Feuilly of the country, of fields of grass and sun. Bahorel smells oddly of dark chocolate, and Marius of the rain. Each underlying their clothes, on their skin - Enjolras recognises them by it, as a signature, a _memory_.

Grantaire, however.

Grantaire's smell is inexplicable.

Not so much a scent as a feeling, a sensation - he can hardly explain. It catches on the edge of his senses, the back of his throat. Sometimes he feels the scent like a touch, a physical thing on his skin.

The only way he could try to describe is a soft, warm thing, enveloping you, cloaking your awareness, like the heat of the sun, the smell of spring, the mist early in the morning - he's an olfactory wonderland. Enjolras has never smelt anything like it.

And sometimes it infuriates him. That such a wonderful smell could belong to such an abrasive person - so stubborn, so - infuriating. And other times, such as these, he basks in the scent.

"Enjolras - what - " Grantaire stutters as he takes his wrist and runs his nose along it. "You - "

The slow rumbling from his chest can hardly be helped, although he tries. But he closes his eyes, savouring Grantaire's scent so close, and ignores his questioning.

After while he comes to himself, and opens his eyes more lucid. "Hello." He says.

"Back in the land of the living?" There's a curious flush to Grantaire's face. "C - can I have my arm?"

"Of course." He let's go quickly. "Thank you."

Grantaire swallows. "Eat your soup." He commands, holding the bowl in front of him, and Enjolras sits up and complies.

*  
*

The first time they met, Enjolras had been harried, distracted by his lectures and his impending speech and the dissertation he still hadn't written.

Grantaire had been introduced to him by a friend, and they had shaken hands quickly, almost absently.

Despite the thoughts wildly circulating in his head, Enjolras had paused, a most peculiar sensation coming over him. He had taken a breath in almost reflexively, and was hit with Grantaire's scent - soft, fresh, inexplicable.

"Oh." Grantaire said, hand held aloft in Enjolras' grip, and he blinked, eyes wide and dark, very dark.

Enjolras quickly extricated himself.

"Apologies, I must be off."

"What?" Grantaire said suddenly. "You - _what?"_

Enjolras half turns from where he had been striding away. "I have to give a speech at the Musain."

"You - but did you not - "

Enjolras waits as Grantaire stutters, seemingly at a loss.

"Did you - you didn't - "

He waits. Grantaire stares, open mouthed.

"Did I not?" He prompts.

Something passes across his features, a kind of understanding. "I see." He says blankly.

Enjolras nods, and is about to start off again before he pauses.

"You could join us?"

Grantaire blinks. He really was quite startlingly beautiful. His eyes, slanted, held the most vivid colour of blue Enjolras had ever seen. His hair was a wild, unruly mass of black curls, and his face was long, his nose curved.

Nothing about him was typically handsome or aesthetically pleasing, but for some reason, the sight before him struck Enjolras in the breastbone.

He stares for a moment, caught. He's never usually so affected by another's appearance before - has never felt the strange stirrings of physical attraction others talk of. Now, however, he stops. He's feeling rather odd.

"Yes." Granaire says at once. "Yes." He repeats.

And that is how their acquaintance begins.

He comes, mocks everything Enjolras says for the next hour, drinks until he can hardy lift the bottle, and then takes up permanent residence at the corner of the booth as a new member of Les Amis de L'ABC.

*  
*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing with my life? I said I wouldn't be able to update and here I am - updating.
> 
> Part of the reason is because I'm stuck inside because I'm - really, really unwell. I honesty don't want to go into the details but writing has been such a great distraction and all the feedback has been just a boost 
> 
> I just want to thank you all and apologise if the story sucks because its being written with half a brain the minute.
> 
> Warning; some angst

*

The others begin to notice the change. The half distracted way Enjorlas can't hold a conversation, the way he draws back from physical touch, winces if somebody laughs too boisterously, jostles him playfully. His senses are on overdrive, and becoming harder and harder to control.

He zones more frequently, but that's not what's worrying. What's worrying is that he's zoning for longer as well - each one takes a little more time to pull him back from. A few minutes turns into thirty, turns into a few hours until eventually, when Enjolras pauses, expression going blank and void, that's him for the rest of the night, and Grantaire has to take him home and stay with him.

None of them comment, until they all decide something must be done. Either he go to the clinic or have an actual conversation with Grantaire. Both options were equally as painful. But Enjolras' health was at stake, and Joly was already beginning to have panic attacks. They stage an intervention.

*  
*

He watches him, as he always does.

He watches, and wants to touch. Yearns to just place his hand on Enjolras' skin and feel him. He wants to stand up, walk across and press himself along the length of Enjolras' back, to close his eyes and embrace him. Wrap arms around his middle, feel his solid weight. To take his heavy head filled with beautiful ideas, run fingers through his soft strands. 

His Guide instincts are making him feel foolish things; making his thoughts muddled and sentimental. 

Enjolras has already clearly indicated he does not wish to bond. 

From the first meeting, a Sentinel and Guide pair will know they're compatible. From scent, touch, their pheromones will become known to each other. And the Sentinel will usually go into what is called a mating frenzy - a heat of sorts, where they'll feel a deep urge to claim their Guide. 

Grantaire had shaken Enjolras' hand and knew - instinctually, that they were compatible. Had felt excitement rise, anticipation, sure expectancy.

And Enjolras had left. 

Grantaire had been shocked speechless. 

No urgency had overcame him, he had no other reaction than polite indifference. It was all the hint he needed.

Enjolras clearly stated then that he did not want the bond. 

Most Sentinels seek out their Guide, search all their lives, wish for an anchor to control their senses. Guides are sought after, worshipped, adored. 

And Enjolras had rebuffed him as though he was nothing more than a commoner. 

He had accepted Enjolras' wishes. Had not mentioned the incident.

Until Enjolras began to lose control of his senses.

It's not a rare thing, for a powerful Sentinel of his age, but when he began zoning in front of Grantaire, Grantaire had almost involuntarily approached him, easing him back into the world. 

The first time, he only had to tap his shoulder and Enjolras had startled and resumed in what he was doing. Over time, his zone-outs became more frequent, and Grantaire found himself touching him the way a Guide would; skin on skin contact, low soothing voice. 

And when that didn't work, he found he had to gently take Enjolras and pull him back to his house, lay him on his bed and wait for him to rouse. 

It was worrying. The others were beginning to take notice, if the glances they perpetually sent Enjolras' way every second were any indication. They all knew what it meant. He was losing himself.

But clearly Enjolras would rather be like this than bond with him and have an anchor for his senses. 

He would have to accept it, and help him in any way he could. Of course, that was easier said than done. 

And then the group make him a proposition. 

*

He comes back from the bathroom, rubbing his hands together and shaking them out, only to slow and pause at the sight before him.

Les Amis are all sat around the table, hands clasped, expressions drawn. There's a banner overhead with a scrawled, 'INTERVENTION' in black ink. Their grave faces dramatise the words.

"Grantaire." Combeferre begins seriously. "We need to talk about Enjolras."

He blinks.

*

"You want me to - what - no, no - "

"Look, it's only temporary, just until he gets his senses under control - "

Grantaire scoffs indignantly. "Temporary? The only way he's getting his senses under control is if he goes to the clinic - "

"You know he's not going to do that - "

"Then I can't help." Grantaire holds up spread palms. "I honestly cannot help."

"For God's sake, Grantaire." Courfeyrac suddenly says. "We're not asking for much, just that you help him out, teach him how to manage his zone-outs - act like a temporary Guide."

Grantaire clenches his jaw, balls his hands. "You don't understand. I - " he swallows convulsively. "When Enjolras and I met, we were compatible."

The table erupts into a flurry of noise before Grantaire shushes them quickly. 

"We were compatible, but!" He waves his hands. "But Enjolras rejected anything."

Silence.

"Rejected.. how?" Combeferre asks carefully.

"We shook hands, we felt the connection, and he - left."

"He didn't explicitly say no, did he?"

"I - " Grantaire grinds his teeth. "No, but it was pretty clear. He pulled away, said he-- look, Sentinels are supposed to be overcome with lust, and- he just doesn't want it, the bond, me, alright? I would be his Gu - " his voice catches in his throat painfully. "I would be his Guide." He tries again. "But he doesn't want me." 

Combeferre pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a manner reminiscent of a father about to scold a child. 

"Enjolras has been by himself for his whole life. He's devoted to social justice, and doesn't understand anything that could possibly get in the way of that."

Grantaire waits. "Okay." He says slowly when no further explanation comes.

Combeferre huffs. "I don't think he realised you were compatible."

Grantaire stares. "That's impossible, how could - "

"He would have said something. Acknowledged it in some way."

Grantaire is shaking his head. "It's not possible, he would have - he must know - "

"Grantaire." Bahorel states. "Do you know Enjolras?"

He sits back. "But." He doesn't know how to continue. 

"So what we are suggesting." Combeferre begins again, warily. "Is that you work with Enjolras to control his senses, work to teach him about zone-outs. You're the only empath with enough power to match him, and now that we know you're compatible, it'll be easy."

Grantaire feels panic stir in his chest. "I - I don't know if I can, I - " 

In truth, he doesn't know how much he could do without initiating a bond between them. If he takes up the role as Enjolras' temporary Guide - the way the clinics give some Sentinels their best staff, an anchor for the time being, until they manage to get a handle on their senses - he could potentially try to mate with him, and that would be.... embarrassing. 

"Well what's the alternative? He's too stubborn to seek out any help by himself, or God forbid go _see _somebody." Courfeyrac says. "What if he starts zoning out, and he's in the kitchen, making coffee. He scalds himself. He catches the switching traffic lights, zones right in front of an oncoming car. He - "__

__Grantaire's breathing had been steadily becoming heavier, but as Courfeyrac carries on he finds his vision narrowing, blurring in front of his eyes, and he presses a hand to his chest where his heart is hammering so painfully he tastes the blood in his mouth._ _

__"Oh God - Oh God - " he hears himself saying, over and over, and it's a long time until he's able to see clearly._ _

__Combeferre is tight-lipped and unamused as he rubs Grantaire's back. "Courfeyrac, was that really necessary?"_ _

__"Clearly he needed to see how serious this - "_ _

__"I think we all know how serious this is." He cuts him off sharply. "There's no need to traumatise him."_ _

__"No, I'll do it." Comes out of his mouth unbidden. He shakes his head to clear it and says more firmly. "I'll do it."_ _

__*_ _

__Broaching the topic to Enjolras is delicate. He knows he can't outright say 'control', or anything that might suggest he isn't coping. This has to be handled with care._ _

__"Enjolras." He begins, when he gets a moment to catch him after the meeting._ _

__"Not now Grantaire, I've no time to discuss why everything I've said is fundamentally wrong."_ _

__That stings. He swallows before soldiering on._ _

__"No, I just wanted to talk to you."_ _

__Enjolras starts looking wary, his eyes flitting to the side. It's uncharacteristically unsure. "Okay?"_ _

__"I - well, I figured since I help you after your zone-outs, I may as well help you during them, and maybe give you a few pointers on how to avoid having them altogether!" He spreads his arms out and immediately wants to hit himself._ _

__"Oh." He looks thoughtful. "That would - that might be good."_ _

__His heart flips. "Yeah?"_ _

__"Yeah." Enjolras nods, and smiles slightly. "So what do you suggest?"_ _

__His mind blanks for a moment. "Oh!" He says suddenly. "I! Well I was hoping we could meet up, and have a kind of - session, if you will."_ _

__Enjolras blinks. "Alright. Where?"_ _

__"The perfect place!" He tries to keep his tone light. "There are padded rooms in the clinic - "_ _

__His face shutters down. "I don't want to go there."_ _

__"Enjolras." He says. "Those rooms are for the public to use whenever they wish. They're there for this purpose exactly, it would be silly to go anywhere else. They have all the necessary equipment."_ _

__He looks undecided._ _

__"We can try it. Just try it, and if you're not comfortable, we can do this in your apartment."_ _

__He bites his lip. "Okay."_ _

__Grantaire breathes a sigh of relief._ _

__*_ _

__"Alright." He rubs his hands together to keep the from trembling. He's sat in front of Enjolras on the floor of one of the private rooms in the clinic. They've slotted a one hour session. He can survive one hour._ _

__"What I have here is a variety of things." He gestures a hand to the tray lined with various pieces of food. "And what we're going to do is taste them, and you try to identity the different ingredients without zoning." He holds up a finger. "If you feel yourself begin to zone, try to warn me. If you can't, I'll - well I guess I'll just hit you over the head." He chuckles, but Enjolras blinks up at him widely._ _

"I'm joking!" He shouts. "I wouldn't - never mind." God, he's so _nervous _. "Anyway."__

____Grantaire hands him a piece from the tray specially made by the clinic for Sentinels working on their control. The segments are lined from easiest to hardest, with flash-cards informing him of every detail. He picks up the first one._ _ _ _

____Enjolras takes it warily before popping it into his mouth._ _ _ _

____Watching his expression, Enjolras chews thoughtfully, eyebrows raising. "Muffin. Wheat, flour, egg. Sugar. Vanilla extract. Something else - coconut?" He frowns, eyes closing in concentration. "Coconut." He says decisively._ _ _ _

____"Alright, that one was pretty easy." Grantaire rolls his eyes, and Enjolras grins. He tries not to let the effect that grin has on him show too obviously._ _ _ _

____Sitting cross legged across from one another, wearing the lose clothing the staff recommended, the touch-sensitive soft fabrics, along Enjolras' scent, his presence, it's almost a palpable thing. Grantaire tries to breathe through his mouth._ _ _ _

____"That one was ridiculously easy." Enjolras says, distracted. "There was nothing but well cooked dough, with a few hints of flavour."_ _ _ _

____"We're starting off small, alright big guy." Grantaire replies, and Enjolras laughs. He looks so relaxed, more at ease than he has been in days. His shoulders are even looser under his t-shirt._ _ _ _

____"Okay." Grantaire skips to the middle piece. Enjolras takes it with less hesitation than the last._ _ _ _

____It takes a few more minutes. "Something nutty but not - peanut. Not anything - I know." He frowns._ _ _ _

____Grantaire peeks at the cards. 'Macadamia,' it reads._ _ _ _

____"Something else." Enjolras' voice trails._ _ _ _

____"Enjolras." Grantaire calls in warning._ _ _ _

____Enjolras' eyes snap on his. This close, his gaze is startlingly intense, pupils blown wide with expanding his senses. Grantaire swallows hotly._ _ _ _

____"Bread - salt, nut, and red pepper."_ _ _ _

____Grantaire blinks. On the card along with the ingredients it says, _'one grain of spice.' _He blows out a breath, takes the piece at the end.___ _ _ _

______"Ready?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras grins._ _ _ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______It becomes a regular thing. They meet every week, and work on each sense in rotation. Touch - he has Enjolras feel various soft and squishy, hard and rough things, identify the materials. Scent - he holds various things under his nose as Enjolras delicately sniffs._ _ _ _ _ _

It's possibly the most difficult thing Grantaire has ever done in his life, bar walking in a straight line after a night out with Bahorel. Because he's so close and so - _aware _.__

________The first time he zones, it's from trying to pinpoint where Grantaire has hidden his beeping phone inside the room. He'd set the alarm on the lowest volume and had Enjolras try to locate it from his sitting position._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He could see him gradually becoming disoriented, a small furrow appearing in the middle of his forehead, until he was grimacing in pain. He'd shut if off quickly but it was too late - he was gone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Enjolras." He tried softly, fingers on his wrist._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He sat motionless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It took him gently running his hand up and down his arm, from his spread palm on his lap to the inside of his elbow, whilst speaking in his low, even baritone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"And then I said that was a very conservative left wing point of view because clearly neoliberalism is a concept that was created by economists trying to give a convoluted name to simple capitalism and - Enjolras? I - Enjolras?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enjolras blinks slowly, coming to himself, and grins slowly. "Really? Politics?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire flushes, pulling away. "Well I've never professionally brought somebody out of a zone before, I'm sorry if it wasn't to your satisfaction."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Thank you." Enjolras says. "Really. I know you don't have to do this. And it's helping, I feel - better. More in control."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He blushes harder. "That's-- good, I'm glad."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They get mistaken for a bonded pair a few months in, when the receptionist at the clinic smiled warmly at Enjolras and said, "Your room is set up for you and your Guide."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire had turned purple, even as his chest constricted tightly. "I - we're not - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"We're working on my senses temporarily." Enjolras added._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She had blinked, and frowned. "Oh? And your guide is - helping you with that?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"We're not bonded." He clarified._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Her confusion seemed to grow. "I'm - sorry, I don't think I understand."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm a compatible empath, I'm just teaching him how to control zone-outs." Grantaire said quickly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Her expression cleared, even as there was still a tightness to her mouth. "I see."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His suspicions were confirmed that Enjolras knew they were compatible when he doesn't mention it, merely sits down and glances up expectantly to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Since then, the staff haven't brought up any mention of bonding, for which he's immensely grateful. Any time he thinks - there's a lump that forms in his throat he'd rather not contemplate too much._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His instincts are on overdrive. Any time he sees Enjolras outside of their sessions, he feels his abilities reaching, confused as to why he can't simply feel him, curl around his emotions and his senses, why he hits a solid wall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Only mated pairs are able to do that. On some unconscious level, his Guide believes they've already mated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He knew it would be difficult, but not painful. The attraction is manageable, but this yearning for something other than contact, something deeper - this urge to bury himself inside Enjolras' skin, to bond with him so thoroughly his scent is imbedded into him. It's something he couldn't have anticipated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enjolras is improving. Drastically. He isn't zoning at all during the day, although he's still sensitive to light, to noise. But he's coming back; he's gaining the control he needs, and he's only going to get better. Grantaire is teaching him the useful tricks on how to not focus, how to not get lost in one sense._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He's getting better. It's the only lifeline he can grasp onto at the moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was about time I updated! Nearly finished!
> 
> I need to take a minute to be very serious: there is heavy angst in this chapter - rejection, mortification, slight homophobia.
> 
> If that really makes you squirm I'm sorry, I can only console that this is a happy ending. But this chapter is not pretty, be warned.

*

Grantaire has his head burrowed in his folded arms across the table, looking three seconds away from sleep, and the rest of Les Amis are already packing away their things for the night, so it seems like the most natural thing in the world to go over and slide his hand into the hair at the back of his head, gently cupping his nape.

Grantaire stirs and arches into the contact before lifting his head and blinking up at Enjolras. 

"Coming?" Enjolras asks, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Grantaire's eyelashes flutter and Enjolras can feel the pleasure rolling from him in waves - although he's not quite sure how. A wash of contentment comes over him, and he finds he doesn't really care. 

He scratches his nails down lightly for a brief stroke before retracting his hand and moving away.

*

Enjolras keeps. touching. him.

He doesn't understand why and he's so confused and he keeps _touching _\- these light, tender strokes, always gentle, never friendly or casual, almost patting and fond.__

He's up to his eyeballs in deadlines with the studio, and his folio pieces are still mostly incomplete and he's basically in a state of stupefied existence and clearly everybody can tell - he's not contributing, hitting back as much as usual.

Although that might have something to do with the tentative peace he and Enjolras have struck up since their sessions, and by some unspoken agreement they've decided to carry that peace back with them to meetings.

And it might have some thing to do with the fact that he's dead on his feet and is basically avoiding looking at Enjorlas directly because it'll hurt his overused retina. 

And now these touches have started up - granted, they're nothing indecent, mainly brief and innocent, and from anybody else he would just think they were teasing him, but they're from _Enjolras _, and he can't think at all.__

He's coming back to himself, but more, he looks... happy. Content inside his own skin, comfortable, _easy _, in a way he's never seen Enjolras before. It makes him wonder just how long he's been going through this.__

____Which makes him wonder, secretly, in 4AM darkness, why Enjolras has never sought help. Why he hasn't went to the clinic and arranged a Guide meeting, why he hasn't handed in his details and been placed on the waiting list for a bond mate like the majority of the public._ _ _ _

Something niggles at him from the back of his mind. He just can't understand _why _.__

______And he can't say he doesn't want a mate. That much is clear - from the tension leaked out of his shoulders after sessions, he may not want Grantaire, but he wants a Guide._ _ _ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Pineapple?! How are you getting pineapple? There is no pineapple, I swear to God - "_ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras is bent double in breathless laughter, hand curling into his t-shirt, shaking his head. They're making a game of it now, that's how good they're getting - they aren't even playing by the rules._ _ _ _ _ _

______Both sat around the food, Grantaire is testing the pieces with him, and Enjolras holds the cards behind his back out of reach, grinning wickedly._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I don't taste it!" He says._ _ _ _ _ _

______He gets shown the flash card, and it's the second ingredient. The next is strawberry._ _ _ _ _ _

_"Strawberry?" _He screeches, and it sets Enjolras off again. "How is there strawberry in this? I can't taste any of these! Who makes these up - I think you've got the wrong card."__

________"I think." Enjolras wipes his eyes. "You've got very weak senses."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire lunges and hits him on the shoulder, and Enjolras let's him, still grinning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________What he really thinks, then, is that they would make a good team, Enjolras and him. They would be a good pair.________

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _If only Enjolras thought the same.________

 _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _

________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The others are giving him odd looks. He decides to let it slide, until Courfeyrac comes up to him, frowning slightly, mouth curled in confusion, and says, "You smell different."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire refuses to give in to the urge to surreptitiously sniff his armpit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Okay? Different how?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You smell - more like Enjolras. But not like him." He frowns again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Well, we've been spending a lot of time together." Grantaire says flippantly, cheeks heating._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"It's not that, it's almost." His expression clears suddenly. "Enjolras has been marking you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grantaire splutters wildly. "What? That's ridiculous."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"That's what it is. You don't smell like him, you smell like his t-shirt or something. You smell like you're his."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grantaire flounders, hot and stifled and indignant. "I - I am not some kind of _object _\- "__

__________"No, no, that's not what I mean, I just mean - it's as if he's rubbed off on you unconsciously."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Courfeyrac, what is your point?" Grantaire asks bluntly to distract himself from that particular mental image._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Nothing, nothing." But he's practically bouncing on the spot. "Anyways I've got to go." He says, backing away, although there's a suspicious glint to his eye that speaks of this not being over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Grantaire does sniff himself, but only when there's nobody around and he's alone in the studio._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________All he smells is paint and his sweat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Sentinels are weird._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Something is happening. Enjolras and he are becoming steadily closer, but not only that, they're - they're _getting closer. ___

____________They talk, and hang out, but on top of that, they -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________They bump each other, and laugh, and grin. They sit with thighs pressed, shoulders brushing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________When Grantaire wakes one morning with his face pressed to his pillow and immediately smells Enjolras on the sheets, even though he's never been inside his bedroom, let alone. Well. He can concede Courfeyrac may have a point._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Then he quietly freaks out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Is Enjolras - does Enjolras - he _must _\- is he actually - does he really -__

______________He can't imagine that Enjolras feels the same - that he's been feeling this wild, restlessly tight sensation in his chest all this time, that he aches like a physical wound, that the thought of being his is so viscerally right that he feels it at the roof of his mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But everything points to it. He's displaying all the typical signs of interest. There's no other explanation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When Grantaire thinks of him, he doesn't just think of the Sentinel in Enjolras. He doesn't just see the strong posture, straight back shoulders presenting for him. The hand at the small of his back, gently laying claim._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He sees Enjolras loose and happy, nothing domineering in his careless expression, his lopsided, unpractised smile. In his long limbs all folded up at an awkward position to sit on the floor with Grantaire. Laughing at the absurdity of the customs of the clinic, of the pointless exercises and meaningless rules. He sees Enjolras, talking freely, gesturing widely, on his same level - literally and figuratively, an _equal _.__

________________He sees all of him. And he wants it all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_I'll see you soon - I've booked room 307. ___

__________________Grantaire stops in the street from where he's been making his way to the coffee shop, and stares down at his phone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The rooms on the third floor are reserved for bonding - they're the most private, they offer the most peace, the most seclusion. They're intimate; soft lighting, warm walled, romantic. Only bond mates use them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantaire's heart begins to beat double. He thinks he finally understands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________*  
*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Enjolras steps inside the padded room, and immediately frowns._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Hello." Grantaire breathes. He's bare-chested and wearing a pair of loose, soft cotton shorts - underwear. Enjolras blinks at the amount of skin on display._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantaire takes a step forward, seemingly oblivious to his confusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I was, I was waiting - for you." He says oddly, and steps so close Enjolras can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves. Enjolras flinches back, and Grantaire raises a careful hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"No, look, it's alright." He says softly. "There's no need to be scared." He touches Enjolras' on the chest, his fingers just skating over him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Enjolras feels himself relax with the contact, as he usually does whenever Grantaire touches him; familiar, comforting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantaire grins, a sudden, blinding thing, moves infinitesimally closer. "See. That's it. You should have worn less clothes." He chuckles fondly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________That catches Enjolras' attention. "What?" He frowns._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantaire tilts his head, his eyes crinkling with mirth even as there is an excitable flush spreading across his cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Surely you know the procedures of a bonding process, Enjolras, I'm not going to have to teach you about the birds and the bees?" He hums disapprovingly, eyebrows raised with good humour._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Bo - bonding?" He stutters._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantaire's eyes are sparkling, alight. "Yes, Enjolras." He moves so now his bare chest is brushing against Enjolras, backing him up to the wall. "Bonding. We can be one with our senses - together." Grantaire is thrumming with anticipation. "We can be as we are, give ourselves over to our desire. Yield to each other, abandon all higher functions. We can be as free as we want."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Enjolras rears his head back in shock. "Wh - Grantaire, what are you talking about?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________" _Bonding, _Enjolras." Grantaire replies, grinning wide, eyes bright, awed.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"Bonding?" He asks again, suddenly understanding. "Wh - bonding? Grantaire, we are not bonding." Enjolras says strongly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Grantaire's breathing ceases. He freezes, and then stares at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"But. You wanted to meet me here." He says dumbly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"Yes, as we usually meet at the clinic - our room was unavailable." He says incredulously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Grantaire is frozen, muscles locked. "But I - I thought - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"You thought what?" He demands, pushing away. "Grantaire, we are two grown men, I don't know what desires you speak of, but I can assure you, we will not be indulging in them." 

______________________Grantaire stands stock still for a moment, arms still raised in the air as if laid against Enjolras' chest. He doesn't blink, doesn't move._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"I believed you wanted to work on my control, to _help _me, not for - " he gestures wordlessly for a moment, overcome with fury. "For _this _."___ _

__________________________Grantaire stares ahead with a wild, wide-eyed vacant expression. He blinks once, and his voice is stuttering when he says, "I - I must have been mistaken - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"Very much so, to believe I would do such a thing - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Grantaire flinches quick; a jerky, pained movement. His breathing begins to come fast, his chest starts to heave. "I - I have been much mistaken." He stutters again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Enjolras feels a prickle of guilt underneath his bewildered anger. "Grantaire, I just don't understand why you thought - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Grantaire shakes his head quick, a hand coming up to interrupt his words. "Yes." He says numbly, still holding his arm out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Enjolras stops. "You know I do not partake in sexual - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"Yes." He cuts him off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"Ever. I have never participated in any carnal desires."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"I was mistaken." Grantaire repeats, steps away and bends to pick his clothes bundled nearly on the floor, hastily putting them on, his hands trembling. "I can see that."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"Wait." Enjolras says, blinking. "What about my senses - about controlling them?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Grantaire stops by the door, his expression drawn, blank. "I don't think it would be a good idea, Enjolras. For me to help you with that anymore."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"What?" He feels a slow, sinking sensation inside his chest; dread. "But I - I need someone to - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Grantaire shakes his bowed head. "I'm sorry. I was mistaken." And with that he leaves._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again so soon! So this is nearing the end and all the feedback and things have been so amazing as usual - just a quick thank you to all that take the time to comment and be so sweet!
> 
> Currently writing many, many WIP's at the moment, and just out of curiosity - I've got two Les Mis going - a truth potion one where Enjolras admits his feelings, and an Alpha!Grantaire Alpha!Enjolras trope supervision (because I've always wanted to do one) - so which sounds more enticing? I'll leave it up to you!

*

He doesn't see Grantaire again for a week. That week is spent in a restless state of confusion and turmoil. He doesn't understand why Grantaire would _think _that. Think that he was going to. Why he would.__

He just doesn't _understand. ___

____His skin feels as though it's been splayed open and turned inside out, every sensation across his flesh is too much, every noise too loud, every experience too much._ _ _ _

____His senses are spiralling wildly, and he feels a sort of helpless defeat overcome him - clearly he won't make his twenty third birthday without a visit to the clinic for a forced bond or being hospitalised against his will._ _ _ _

He grits his teeth at the thought - a bond is the last thing in the _world _he wants.__

______He's seen what they do; he's seen the way they force Guides to just accept that a Sentinel finds them compatible and mate._ _ _ _ _ _

______He's seen the way Sentinels go into a mating frenzy, has watched as the Guide accepted their fate, the resigned slope of their bared neck, their slumped shoulders._ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras fights for equality every day, in politics, in society - he sure as hell isn't changing his beliefs for romance._ _ _ _ _ _

______And that's why Grantaire's assumptions burn._ _ _ _ _ _

______Does he really see him as just another power-hungry Sentinel, domineering and aggressive, expecting them to bond just because they're compatible? Because the clinic thought they were mated? Because they've been working on his senses, did Granatire just immediately think, 'well, Enjolras will want to bond now?'_ _ _ _ _ _

To think what might've happened had Enjolras been inclined to take him up on his offer? Taken advantage of him? He _dreads _, had he been anyone else, who would have simply taken Grantaire.__

He had thought Grantaire had more fire than that, more defiance, more spirit. Grantaire, challenging, snarking Granatire; Enjolras had thought _he _of all people wouldn't want a bond.__

__________He had thought that Grantaire understood the distaste of Sentinel/Guide traditions - these past few weeks it had seemed as though he shared Enjolras' views on the matter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But clearly he had been wrong._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

And some squirming part of him knew he was illogically hurt, that maybe he had spoken out of turn, acted irrationally, but - Grantaire, the fact that _Grantaire _thought that about him, stung more than if it were anybody else.__

____________He refuses to question why._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Stupid._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________God, he had been so stupid. So naive, so trustingly open, exposing all his useless, humiliating desires and the secrets he had kept hidden for years now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________His cheeks sting with embarrassment for days, with the memory of his own words, his actions. With the image of Enjolras' expression, confused and then downright furious, disgusted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________As though the thought of being with him -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He swallows harshly. Stupid, stupid. God, so _stupid. ___

______________He's avoiding him, but he can't avoid Les Amis. They're worried, because Grantaire hasn't told them anything, and he's almost sure Enjolras hasn't either. So he doesn't go to meetings, but they still find him, out on campus, or at his usual coffee place, in the studio._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

They seek him out, all wide-eyed and worried, and he wants to yell, _'it's your fault, it's all your fault, if you hadn't asked me to help him in the first place!' ___

________________If they hadn't asked him to help in the first place, he would have continued being Enjolras' go-to whenever he had a zone-out, would have continued cooking him soup and tending to him and soothing his Guide instincts that screamed at him to throw himself at Enjolras' feet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Everything would have continued as normal and nothing would have changed at all, but of course, something had to give, and that something being Grantaire's admittedly feeble and pathetic heart._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He knows they're his friends. And he knows Combeferre meant well when he proposed the idea, knows that Courfeyrac hadn't been trying to be cruel when he had bluntly illustrated all the risks that Enjolras was placing himself in front of for some god forsaken reason. And he knows it, he _knows _.__

__________________It's just difficult, when they all crowd into his art room, and Marius stands with his hand linked with Cosette's; Joly and Boussuet close and inexplicably drawn to each other as through they're each other's centre of gravity._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He sets his brush down and runs a dirty hand through his even dirtier hair, smears it down his paint-spattered thigh, and sighs in resignation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Where have you been?" Courfeyrac cuts to the chase._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Grantire shrugs helplessly, suddenly shy in the face of all their hurt gazes. He realises that cutting out his friends from his life possibly wasn't the smartest decision._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"We've been worried." Eponine adds, and oh. Ep. He gives her a sheepish look, to which she raises an eyebrow. Right. He'll have to do better than that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I'm sorry." He says. "I just, I've been caught up with folio work and-- papers and...", he trails off lamely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"We've all got work, Grantaire." Combeferre says. "We're just wondering why you haven't been turning up to a one hour meeting once a week, been ignoring our calls and texts, and crossing the street to avoid us."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Look." He says, jaw tense, angry at the accusation in his tone. "If you're so worried, why don't you ask Enjolras."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I knew it." Joly says. "I knew this had something-- "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"What did Enjolras do?" Courfeyrac jumps straight in again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He slumps as though all his strings have been cut loose. "Nothing. He did nothing."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Alright." Eponine says. "I think I'm gonna - so if could all." She makes an ambiguous gesture to the door, waving a hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Everybody shuffles out. Eponine comes over to where Grantaire is sat, hands on her hips. He leans his head on her stomach, and after a moment she starts stroking his hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I asked him to bond, Ep." He says eventually. "I asked him to bond, and he - " Grantaire swallows. "He rejected me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Eponine makes a soft sound in the back of her throat before abruptly reaching down and enfolding him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Everybody knows how serious bonds are. They're for life; they're the strongest relationship you can have with another person, the closest you can be to another human being. To be rejected is a rumoured agony, something incomprehensibly painful. To bare your soul, lay it open for someone to take, and have them turn you away. It's unimaginable._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She let's him cry, into her comfortingly familiar coconut-scented hair, and afterwards, doesn't flinch at his swollen, bloodshot eyes, his creased, weary expression._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She simply wipes above his cheekbone and growls low, "I'll kill him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He shakes his head. "Please, no."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Because no matter how much Enjolras has hurt him, he still never wants harm to come his way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"The foolish boy!" She explodes. "Doesn't he realise-- he needs to be _told, _Grantaire." She says sternly.__

____________________Grantaire simply shakes his head, mutely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"What did he say?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________"He said." Grantaire looks down quickly, to stifle his reaction. "He said that we were two grown men, and that he wouldn't 'indulge in my desires'."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Eponine gives him an incredulous, disbelieving look. "He said that."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Grantaire nods, shoulders rising in defensiveness. "That's what he said."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Grantaire, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What does that even mean? Where the hell does he get off, talking about your _desires _, and what the fuck does he know about your desires, and - "__

______________________"Ep!" He laughs, loosening up a little at her outage. "I know. I know. He was pretty harsh."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Tell me everything." She pulls a stool around and sits down. "I'm not going to understand if I don't know every detail. As far as I knew you were helping him with his control?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He nods. "And then he-- asked to meet in a bonding room. I thought he wanted to bond." He hangs his head in shame, and Eponine frowns._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Go on." She prods._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"I was waiting. I approached him, said I wanted us - to bond. He said we weren't bonding, that we were both men, we wouldn't be indulging in my fantasies of us or whatever - and said... said he thought that I wanted to help him, and not-- I don't know, accost him." Granatire waves his hands uselessly, voice lowering._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Right." Eponine says slowly. "That doesn't make any sense."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He blinks. "What?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Hearing that from my point of view - does that make any sense?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire thinks, tilts his head. "I mean, it's pretty obvious he didn't want - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Firstly he's saying that you're both men, which implies he isn't attracted to men, so that's one reason not to bond. Sufficient enough." She holds up a finger. "Then he goes on to talk about your desires, which, weird - and wholly unnecessary considering he's already given you a reason. Then he starts talking about how he thought you wanted to help his control, so another unnecessary reason. To me, it sounds less like he's rejecting you and more like he's just angry, and lashing out."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grantaire stops. "I don't." He frowns. "But _why _?"__

________________________Eponine tightens her jaw in concentration, glancing away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________"When you first told me what happened, Granaire, I was angry, so angry at him, but... This is Enjolras we're talking about. Socially inept, equal-rights, feminist Enjolras - never dated in his life, helps old ladies cross the street. He's - clueless, yeah, but he's not cruel."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________Grantaire sighs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________"You wouldn't have fallen in love with a cruel man, Grantaire." She tells him softly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________He scrubs his face. "So what are you saying?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________"I don't know. What are your instincts saying?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________Grantaire huffs. "My instincts are down-trodden and beaten up at the moment. I don't think they could take another battering."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"R, what are your instincts _telling _you?"__

__________________________"That he's my Sentinel." Grantaire replies simply, and shrugs. "Just that. Nothing more."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________She sighs. "I don't feel good about this. I feel like there's something I'm missing."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"That's all that happened, Ep. I wish there were something else, but that was it." Grantaire feels his patience wearing thin the longer they talk about it, go over the whole experience again and again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"I think you need to talk to him." She says._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________And yeah - Grantaire knows it has to happen at some point. It was always going to come to this._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________He shrugs again, and sighs. Looks down at himself, at his dirty clothes, his grease-stained fingers, the crusted paint on his skin. Swallows a wave of self-deprecation, of, 'who would want to bond with this?' And gets up, already mentally preparing himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________He ends up getting drunk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He doesn't _mean _to. But he makes it to the next meeting, and sees him - standing tall, proud, his hair a halo of gold in the dim lighting, features striking, and he's ordering a beer with a wave of his hand he isn't consciously aware of.__

____________________________He drinks. And drinks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________And ignores Enjolras - gesturing grandly on some pressingly important issue, face earnest, sincere. He ignores him in favour of drinking, tipping the bottle back sloppily and adopting his familiar sneer. Ignores Eponine, shooting him concerned glances. Ignores Combeferre, Courfeyac._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________He ignores them, and he drinks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Enjolras can't take it anymore._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________He gives one last half-hearted attempt at a speech before he gives in, letting the others take over, and presses fingers to his temples, his head a pounding mass._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________His senses are getting worse. And Grantaire - sat just within reach, is doing something to them he'd rather not contemplate._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________He waits until everybody is shuffling out, hangs back awkwardly until he's sure nobody is listening, and makes his way over to where Grantaire has been sat all night._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________"Enjolras! To what do I owe this inexplicable pleasure?" Grantaire beams, all false benevolence. It makes Enjolras' skin itch._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________"I wanted to talk to you about... About the other day." He begins stutteringly. "I - I may have spoken out of turn - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"No, no, I'm perfectly aware; the mighty Apollo should never stoop to such a level to _defile himself _with a worthless commoner. If that." Grantaire laughs, loud and careless.__

______________________________"I - " Enjolras begins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"Or was it - what did you say? Carnal desires? Did not - you could not indulge my carnal desires? My twisted, deformed, gnarled desire for you? The things I feel for you, God Enjolras, the things I feel."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Grantaire stops, closes his eyes and clenches his fists, as if containing a wave of strong emotion. He looks down at the table-top for a moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"Are - more than desire. More than I can express."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Enjolras stares uncomprehendingly as Grantaire opens his eyes and slowly, slowly meets his gaze, more sober than he's ever seen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"I understand what happened. I understand perfectly Enjolras, you do not need to pain yourself to try and explain."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"But - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"No. Stop. It's alright." Graintaire tries a soft, small smile. "You cannot make yourself feel what you do not, and therefore, cannot apologise. Now, I should be going, so goodbye, my - " here he cuts himself off, and resumes. "Mighty Apollo."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Grantaire's stands and walks away. His gait is the saddest he has ever seen a man's._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Enjolras can admit, although he may know a great many things - he is not particularly versed in understanding people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He feels the weight of confusion, of a mistake in his chest - not guilt. Regret._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________For what, he does not know._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"Did you talk to him?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"Yes." Grantaire sighs heavily, dropping his keys into the bowl and flopping down on the couch. "Yes, Ep, I talked to him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"And what did he say? What did you say?" She comes round to face him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"That it was fine." He lifts his shoulders up in a careless shrug. "Doesn't matter. We can forget about it."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Eponine gives him an incredulous look. "You told him that?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He sighs. "I don't want to scold him, make him feel guilty for something he can't help. I'd rather just forget about it."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"And that's what you want?" She asks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"Yes." He says, exhausted. "That's what I want."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She stares at him hard for another moment, before she jumps to come sit by him, taking his feet in her lap._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________"What movie?" She picks up the remote, squinting at the TV._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He's never loved her more than in that moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Enjolras feels something amiss; something tight and _wrong _sat heavy in his chest, in his bones.__

________________________________He can't place it, but it's there, a constant gnawing wrongness that feels like a physical ache. Tries to ignore it, to think nothing of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He's meeting Combeferre for lunch, and steps inside the crowed cafe, shaking out of his coat, and is about to cross over to his usual seat when he catches sight of them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Enjolras stops, freezes in his steps._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Grantaire is at the bar with somebody._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________They're laughing; easy, close. Grantaire has his head tipped forward to him, grinning in conspiracy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He blinks, frozen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Enjolras stands like that for a moment before realising and quickly making his way to the table, sending furtive glances as he passes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"What - who is Grantaire with?" He asks Combeferre immediately as he sits._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"Montparnasse. They've been there a while, I believe." He says disinterestedly, thumbing through his book._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"He - why is he - who - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Combeferre looks up and raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"He's. So, what." He exhales noisily through his nose, jaw tense. Swallowing seems to take much effort, his throat dry, raw._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"Enjolras." Combeferre begins. "I'm not going to make the same mistake of involving myself again, so if you have a problem, talk to him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"Involve - what?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He sighs, resigned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________"We asked him to help you control your senses."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Enjolras stares._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"What?" He asks, thudding hurt beginning to beat behind his ears. He had thought Grantaire had-- and all this time he hadn't even wanted - he'd been _asked _to -__

__________________________________"We were worried about you. But now look what's happened." Combeferre waves an arm in general as if to encompass the situation. "You're both avoiding each other, and Grantaire's sitting talking to his ex."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________"His ex?" He repeats dumbly, heartbeat refusing to calm. "His ex?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________"Yes, that's what I said."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Enjolras' breathing is coming harder; soft, panting puffs. "His ex boyfriend?" He doesn't mean for the way his voice lowers, rumbling in his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Combeferre blinks. "Enjolras - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________He doesn't hear him, suddenly, because his eye is caught by the line of Montparnasse's arm, stretching across to brush his fingers against Grantaire's wrist._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________A growl is torn partway from his throat, ripped from his mouth and snarled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________His senses expand, trying to gain a feel of the situation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Montparnasse is bitter cologne and strong, musky scent; Sentinel._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________He feels his jawbone ache with the need to bite into something, anything, sink his teeth in and grind his jaw. He's coming onto Grantaire, he's so obviously flirting with him, and he isn't being rebuffed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grantaire is still grinning wide, and how dare, how _dare _this Sentinel, this foreign man, touch his Guide, stroke his mates wrist and come onto him, how does he have the right, the audacity to lean close, breathe him in -__

 _ _\- his Guides scent, _his _, bask in Grantaire's unique flavour -____

_Grantaire is his. ___

________________________________________Enjolras isn't even registering his thoughts. His mind feels fuzzy and clouded, tongue heavy in his mouth, eyes sharp and intent, nostril flaring, hands balled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________He's stood up before he's even aware - his leg muscles tense and aching with the effort of not springing across and ripping this man limb from limb._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________And then he senses him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________His senses are opened so much so that every light, every sound, is intensified, and as he's exposed to the air around him, he senses Grantaire for the first time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________Soft, heady, wonderful. Skin the smoothest plane of existence, eyes bright, amused, wicked. Scent intoxicating, wrapping around him, and suddenly he needs Grantaire - he needs him as his, needs to feel him, to -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________Baser instinct seems to surge forth in his uncertainty._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________He needs to bond._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Sorry to leave on such a high note, the next part shouldn't be long - also there is no dub-con, non-con next, I don't do that, sorry (or not sorry, if you're on the same boat as me!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Wow, so glad I made it!  
> Warnings; angst

*

Anything can throw a Sentinel into a mating frenzy. 

For most, it's upon first meeting their Guide. 

The first introduction; the first touch, first scenting. The more compatible, the stronger the frenzy.

However, for others, the first meeting isn't enough. Depending on the level of the Sentinels power, the strength of the Guides empathy, it can take more to throw them into the a rut. Some five sense Sentinels can have such acute abilities - their powers beyond the norm - that it takes more than a first encounter to dredge up those deep mating instincts within them. It takes something to really unsettle them.

However, when those instincts are activated - the mating can be stronger than a simple bond. It can go past the bounds of the physical, the restrictions of consciousness. It can be otherworldly, subliminal. 

*  
*

He's across the room and standing by them in an instant, towering tall and breathing fast. 

"Enjolras!" Grantaire exclaims in surprise, and then his eyes widen at the look on Enjolras' face. 

Enjolras huffs short, sharp exhales, grinding his jaw and glaring at Montparnasse.

The Sentinel raises his eyebrows and turns his body towards him slightly. "How may I help you?" 

"Get out." He says. 

Montparnasse let's out an incredulous laugh. "Excuse me?"

"Get. Out." He states. "Right. Now." His voice is a growl, arms shaking where they're tensed.

Montparnasse stands, blocking the way to Grantaire, sat bewildered and stumped.

"I don't think - " He starts, and then frowns. Leans forward, scenting the air. "I think you need to go to the clinic." He says calmly.

Enjolras' shoulders are shaking with suppressed rage. 

"Grantaire, I think we need to - "

"No." He grits his teeth. "Mine. He's mine - my Guide. He's _mine. _" The words coming out of Enjolras' mouth never would have voluntarily, and some part of him is horrified, but the majority is riding on instinct, with the need to lay claim.__

__Grantaire's mouth falls open in shock._ _

__"Grantaire." Montparnasse says slowly. "I think you need to take this man to the clinic." He goes to reach, but the rumbling noise that begins at that action has him pulling back, holding his hands out in surrender._ _

__"Okay. Alright." Sweat breaks across his forehead as he takes small steps to distance himself. Volatile, hostile Sentinels in a mating frenzy are unpredictable at best. Deadly at worst._ _

__A Sentinel in a mating frenzy, perceiving a threat; Montparnasse is an intelligent man._ _

__"What - " Grantaire begins, slowly rising to his feet._ _

__The people in the cafe are frozen, watching the exchange._ _

__Enjolras growls in impatience and tries to jump forward to Grantaire, but Combeferre is suddenly there, standing at his side with a hand on his arm._ _

__"You don't want to do this here, Enjorlas." He says softly. "We'll take you to the clinic - "_ _

_"No." _He growls, some of the desperation leaking into his voice. "He's my Guide - he's mine, I need him - "__

____"Okay, Grantaire." Combeferre gestures his head to him, staring dumbly. "Come over here."_ _ _ _

____Grantaire shuffles over bumblingly._ _ _ _

____As soon as he's close, Enjolras struggles against Combeferres restraining hand, and Grantaire takes a step back._ _ _ _

____It's that that gives Enjolras pause, through the haze of his urgency. He stops, silent and still, as Grantaire edges his way towards him._ _ _ _

____"Enjolras?" He asks softly._ _ _ _

____Enjolras makes a noise high in his throat, his skin winding tight the longer Grantaire stares, eyes wide and clear, bright._ _ _ _

____"Okay, I'm taking him to the clinic." Combeferre says._ _ _ _

____"Alright." Grantaire nods._ _ _ _

____He gives him a look of incredulity. "You're coming with me."_ _ _ _

____*  
*_ _ _ _

____He has no idea what's going on._ _ _ _

____He'd been having lunch with Montparnasse, a half-hearted attempt to move on, make himself feel better, bask in a little attention._ _ _ _

____And then Enjolras had been standing over them, nostrils flared and breathing heavily, pupils dilated, eyes intent on Grantaire._ _ _ _

____"Mine. My Guide."_ _ _ _

____He had been staring at Grantaire when he had said that, but... that can't be true. He couldn't have heard right. He felt his whole body flush hot and cold at that, because that's not right._ _ _ _

____It's not right. It can't be._ _ _ _

____Combeferre keeps a tight grip on him as they walk, and Enjolras is tense; shoulders taut, the long line of his spine ram-rod straight._ _ _ _

____His jaw muscles jump in his cheeks as he swallows, that's how hard his teeth are grinding. He's never seen him so painfully tense._ _ _ _

____As they walk inside, the staff flock to him, ushering him inside; nurses come with thermometers and blood pressure pumps. Combeferre and Grantaire stay behind, at a loss._ _ _ _

____"Grantaire." Enjolras , still struggling furtively as he tries to resist. The further he's pulled away, the more urgent he becomes, until he's thrashing, lashing out with his whole body. "Grantaire!"_ _ _ _

____"I'm here, I'm here." He rushes up._ _ _ _

____"Alright, so we'll set up your room, and - "_ _ _ _

____"Wait." Granatire says, pausing. "Who - who is he mating with?" He forces the question out._ _ _ _

____She gives him the same look at Combeferre. "You."_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____Enjolras feels the way the air fills with distress, with confusion and fear._ _ _ _

"What?! He, you - _what?!" ___

______Enjolras whimpers, struggling against the nurse taking his pulse. She shushes him comfortingly. "Just a little longer, I need to register your vitals and then we can get you to your room."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"No, he - no." Grantaire laughs, a little hysterically. "He doesn't want - he's not mating with me."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Sir, your Sentinel is in a mating frenzy and - "_ _ _ _ _ _

_"He's not my Sentinel!" _Comes the high pitched wail. "He doesn't want to be my Sentinel - "__

________"Sir, I think you're under some confusion - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_"No, no, I think _you're _under confusion, I am not mating with that man - "___

__________Enjolras cries out, wounded, and spasms against the nurse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Okay, pulse is elevating - we need a Guide to rein his senses - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Gran - " He starts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'm not his Guide! He doesn't want me to be his Guide! He doesn't want this. look at him, he doesn't have a choice, if we bond, he'll-- he doesn't want this!" Grantaire is shouting, hands waving as he tries to explain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Sir, are you saying you don't want to mate with this Sentinel?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"No, I!" Granatire fists his hair. "I'm saying you need to get him another Guide, because he doesn't want me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"It's clear you threw him into a mating frenzy, and that now he wants to bond to you - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I didn't do anything!" Granatire says. "I've known him for years, it's not me!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Grantaire - " Enjolras tries again, reaching out unseeingly, eyes unfocused, senses too open._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Grantaire makes a noise of frustration and steps forward._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'll be able to rein him in but that's about it - " And he touches Enjolras' wrist, and the world falls away into darkness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras wakes in a forest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He blinks, feels the grass, the wet bracken beneath his palms. There are trees everywhere, thick, dense forestry. He stands unsteadily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Enjolras?" He hears Grantaire's wild, frantic voice, and glances sharply, a grin breaking across his face. "Enjolras?" The voice is coming nearer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Grantaire!" He shouts in jubilation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Oh, thank God." Grantaire steps out from behind a tree, sagging in relief. "Listen - something has gone wrong, something has gone seriously, seriously wrong, we need - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras scrambles and rushes over to him, but he holds up a hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"No, _listen _, Enjolras, you don't understand - " He says, walking backwards. "This isn't supposed to happen - "__

____________Just then, a presence behind Grantaire draws his attention away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Looming, but not foreboding. Almost apologetic, but protective in the way it stands over him. A black bear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Enjolras has to look up, strain his neck to see the creature._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________But it's a magnificent creature. Sleek, glossy dark fur, strong bulk, there's a mist around the animal that gives it an ethereal quality, but the expression is something Enjolras has never seen. There is quiet pain behind those soft brown, kind eyes, as they look down at Enjolras._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It's such a human expression, and one he finds strangely familiar. He feels as if he knows this animal, closely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He reaches up and touches the bears chest, fingers sinking into fur._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Flashes of images; sudden pictures. Memories._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_"Hello." _He's looking at himself, younger, outstretched hand, and feels excited, nervous-- realises with a jolt that this is Grantaire's memory, he's feeling what Grantaire felt when they first met.__

______________"Enjolras." Draws him back sharply, and Grantaire is at his side, ashen-faced, a hand clutched to his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"What was that?" He gasps, confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Your memory." Enjolras says in wonder, and touches the animal again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_"You wouldn't understand the concept." _Is his harsh voice, and there's hurt - buried underneath the smokescreen of anger, but he feels it, the stinging pain of it -__

________________"Enjolras." He hears, but he isn't listening._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The images soar through his mind - flashes of his face, him talking, giving speeches, him laughing with Les Amis, and he feels a bone deep sense of longing, achey and tiring as he watches himself, feels the need to stand up, to touch, -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"Enjolras, stop."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________To hold, wrap arms around himself, -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________"Enjolras, I said stop - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Worry, sickening concern as he stares blankly back at himself, _"Enjolras." _Softly murmured words, snap-shot images of his kitchen, of putting together soup and soft bread and taking care of him, stroking his sleeping face and tucking him around covers -__

__________________"Stop it!" Grantaire shouts. "Stop - Enjolras!" He tries to pull him away, desperately, furtively, but finds he can't; Enjolras is immovable, frozen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________A sense of happiness, of love, laughing with Enjolras in the clinic, excitement and warring confusion whenever he feels Enjolras' fingers brush over him, whenever Enjolras grins wide and friendly -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Please, Enjolras, I don't want you to see this - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________\- bubbling anticipation the longer Enjolras carelessly touches, the more he seems to feel the same -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Please, stop!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Then receiving that text, he feels his heart swoop, feels elated, getting ready to surprise Enjolras, feeling stupid as he takes off his clothes but then remembering what's about to happen and feeling thrills tingle up his spine; to become Enjolras' Guide, to bond to him, become one -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Stop it, stop it, stop seeing - stop looking at this, I don't want you to know this, I don't want you to see - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________A whirlwind of images, his disgusted, horrified face, his sharp, cutting words, crushing, hot mortification and the weight of rejection cripples him, he's breathless with the pain -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Please - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

His eyes sting as he feels, he _feels _how Grantaire felt - so alone, so isolated and unwanted, picking up his clothes, foolish foolish foolishly thinking -__

____________________"Enjolras!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

\- that he would want him, want _Grantaire _, why would he ever feel that way, of every Guide, why would he ever want him -_ _

______________________"STOP!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Enjolras pulls back with a sharp breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire is kneeling on the floor, arms around his middle, holding his stomach as if he's in physical pain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"Grantaire." Enjolras whispers, coming to kneel in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire shakes his head, his face wet with tears, and Enjolras takes his face in his hands, wiping away the wetness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"I had no idea." He says, feeling his own vision blur. "I didn't know, I had no idea."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"I asked you to stop." Grantaire says quietly, his eyes downturned in shame, in humiliation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"I couldn't." He says helplessly. "I couldn't - Grantaire." He strokes his thumb over Grantaire's cheek, but Grantaire pulls away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________As he does so, he freezes as his eyes focus on something behind Enjolras._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Enjolras looks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Behind him stands a gold-maned lion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Grantaire stares at the creature in shock, but sits motionless. His fingers twitch where they rest on his curled knees._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Enjolras takes his wrist and places it on the animals mane._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________And he sees - he sees what Grantaire is able to see. His own memories._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_"Hello." _And he sees Grantaire's friendly, open face, feels confusion at the tightening sensation in his gut, feels his heart begin to pound at how beautiful this man is -__

________________________"What - " Grantaire gasps, his grip on the lions fur stiffening, his knuckles turning white._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

\- feeling anger as he scorns all of Enjolras' beliefs, helpless fury as he tries to make him _see _, but he's so stubborn, so challenging, and he feels his blood boil with some emotion he can't name -__

__________________________Granatire pulls away harshly, and the connection is lost._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"Gran - " He begins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"I don't want to see." He states flatly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Enjolras takes his wrist again, tenderly. "Just wait. Just watch."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Grantaire looks at him warily, but allows himself to he pulled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________\- and unease whenever Grantaire isn't there, turning to worry the longer he doesn't show up to the meeting, wondering where he could be, who he's with - feeling his instincts twist in distress at the thought -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________"You - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

\- relief on seeing his face again, disregarding why he was so worried in the first place, just happy that Grantaire is _there _, that he comes back even though he clearly dislikes him -__

____________________________Granatire makes a noise at that, pained. "How could you think - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Enjolras shakes his head, and he shows him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Shows him his memories of Grantaire in his apartment, feeding him and tending to him, being the perfect Guide, the perfect _friend _, never once mentioning his episodes, letting it slide whenever Enjolras is clingy, wanting to touch, wanting to hold him, but Grantaire is always gently reluctant, never harsh but always pulling away -__

______________________________There's a sharply indrawn breath as Enjolras' memories flood Grantaire's mind - his thoughts, his feelings -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________\- the way Grantaire smells, soft and wonderful, like a fresh breeze, wanting to bury his nose in that scent, to have it imbedded in his skin, -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________________"Enjolras - " ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

\- Grantaire, laughing and talking during those sessions, making everything so much easier, so much _better _, making him feel better; as they joke and play, feeling himself grow closer to him, happiness whenever he saw Grantaire, giving in to the urge to touch him, all the time; playful, gentle touches he basks in, fondly tugging on his wild curls, bumping his slim shoulders -__

__________________________________"But - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________\- then his anger, his confusion, at Grantaire propositioning him, idiotically not understanding, thinking Grantaire felt obliged, felt that Enjolras expected them to bond, his hurt at Grantaire seeing him that way -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________"I - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________\- his turmoil that whole week, restless confusion and distress, seeing Grantaire again, knowing he made a mistake, -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________"How - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________\- and then seeing him with Montparnasse, the wild fury at him being touched, the possessiveness rising up within him, scenting Grantaire and suddenly needing him, desperately needing to feel Grantaire close and safe in his arms, because Granatire is his, he's always been his, always his Guide -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Grantaire is breathing fast as he pulls away abruptly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Nobody talks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Enjolras glances at him, suddenly shy, and shrinks away as Grantaire runs a hand through his hair and rub his forehead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"How - but you've never - never once seemed - _how?" ___

____________________________________Enjorlas swallows, picks at his clothes. "I could ask you the same."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Grantaire laughs highly. "You could ask me the _same? _Enjolras, I've loved you ever since I first met you - ever since I first knew I was your Guide."__

______________________________________He stares. "You're my Guide." He says breathlessly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Granatire shivers at that. He looks at Enjolras for a while, before whispering, "And you - are you - you're my Sentinel?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras closes the distance between them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire reacts immediately, hands winding into his hair to pull him closer, and they fall into one another at an awkward position, knees bumping, so Enjolras lowers him backwards gently, making sure he doesn't hurt himself as his back hits the forest floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________And then they're kissing, hands roaming, mouths desperate, Enjolras pulls away to bury his nose in Grantaire's throat and feel his pulse - Grantaire gasps against him, arching upwards, and Enjolras opens his mouth against his skin, presses his blunt teeth down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Mine." He growls, breathless and shaking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Yes. Yes." Grantaire murmurs mindlessly, stroking down Enjolras head, carding fingers through his hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras pulls back to look at Grantaire, and his pupils are blown, eyes liquid dark and nostrils flared, senses expanded, heightened to an almost catatonic level._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Enjolras." Grantaire says softly, touching his thumb to his cheek._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Grantaire." He rumbles._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire chuckles. "That's me." He replies fondly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Guide." He clarifies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire's eyes are sparkling and bright. "Sentinel." He replies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire wakes slowly, floating in a haze, bones loose and warm; blissful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He sighs, before abruptly sitting up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He's lying on a bonding bed in the clinic. His breath catches in his throat as he turns and -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras. Asleep, his hair spilling across the pillow, the cover slipping down his bare back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He stirs as he watches, the muscles of his back rippling, skin all golden stretches of land, and Grantaire feels his pulse thud behind his ears._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Grnnn." Enjolras mumbles, and a hand stretches out from under the sheets and clumsily grapples at his hip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________His very bare, naked hip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He startles back, and Enjolras wakes fully, his disgruntled face appearing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Grantaire." He huffs, and pulls him in more determinedly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire yelps as he falls into Enjolras solid, warm chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras grins down at him, eyes crinkling, hair in a sleep-disarray. "Hello there, Guide."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire stops breathing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras seems to notice his shock. "Grantaire?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He stares at him, his eyes widening slowly, inch by inch._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Granatire!" Enjolras calls in worry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________The memories come flooding back; of the forest, Enjolras touching his spirit animal - seeing into his soul, seeing everything, and-- and showing him everything back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________He remembers Enjolras' memories as clearly as though they were his own. Remembers his thoughts, how he feels, about Grantaire, about - about bonding -_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Are you alright?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Perfectly fine." His voice is two octaves higher than normal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras looks at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire feels a slow seeping worry come through his abilities, and realises that he's able to sense Enjorlas._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Oh My God." He says, scrambles upwards and out the bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Oh My God-- OHMYGOD!" The second one because he's completely naked. He pulls the cover down and over his waist. "Oh My God." He says shakily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Enjolras, are we - are we bonded?" He asks tremulously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________A flash of hurt, of confusion and pain, crosses his face. "I thought that was what you wanted, I thought this- " Enjorlas looks down suddenly, swallowing quick._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"This can't be happening, this just cannot be happening." Grantaire says nonsensically._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Something opens up in his chest, a gaping hole of anguish and agony._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"I thought you wanted this." Comes the tortured whisper. "I'm sorry."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Grantaire leans forward, distressed. "Hey, what - "_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras turns away from him, as he had in the forest. "If you don't want it, you can leave. We haven't completed the bond yet."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"If I don't want - " He frowns. "Enjolras." He says slowly. "Do you think that I don't want you?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras flushes hotly, red all down the column of his throat. "I think you don't want to bond to me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Granatire leans both knees down on the bed, slowly crawling forwards. The flush stands out more apparent, darkening the closer he comes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________"Enjolras." He says again. "How could you possibly think I don't want to bond to you?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Enjolras frowns bewilderedly. "Because of your reaction when you thought we had!" He gestures._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"So you want to bond to me?" He asks instead of answering, heart beginning to pound. He's remembering everything from the forest now - and more, Enjolras' feelings for him, how he feels _for _him. He needs the confirmation, he needs to hear it.__

________________________________________"I - Grantaire - " Enjolras starts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________"Do you want to bond to me?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________Enjolras looks at him intently before glancing sharply down. "Yes." He swallows, and his throat clicks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________Grantaire lunges._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________He throws himself across the space and hits Enjorlas with a force that knocks him backwards._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________He should be embarrassed by his shamelessness, but as soon as their skin makes contact, Enjorlas is hauling him forwards by his thighs and pushing him back into the mattress._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________His skin is singing, everywhere Enjolras touches, every brush of his fingers, his warm weight settling on top of him - the room floods with happiness, ecstasy and arousal, and Enjolras gasps as he scents the spike in the atmosphere._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________"I don't understand." Enjorlas breathes against him. "You were so disgusted by the idea - so horrified."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________"I thought you didn't want this." He explains. "You want this - do you want this?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________Enjolras stares down at him. "Of course I want this."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________He's shaking, he can't help it, doesn't know how to stop. "What about everything - all this time, you've never seemed like you felt that way."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________________"I only started to realise after our sessions. After I started zoning. I think I always have."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He tucks a curl behind Grantaire's ear, and Grantaire - Grantaire _beams _, as blindingly bright as the sun, his whole mouth stretching. He feels as if he might burst.__

__________________________________________"What about you - all this time?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"All this time." Grantaire confirms. He feels a slow, simmering sensation in his chest - realises with startling clarity that it's the bond - nebulous and fragile, but nonetheless _there _, and shuddering at their proximity, edging them closer.__

____________________________________________"Grantaire." Enjolras breathes across his mouth, leaning in. Grantaire slides a hand up his smooth chest, to rest over his beating heart._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"This is what I meant, when I talked about bonding. This is what I wanted." He tells him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________Enjolras' eyes are clear and intent on him. "Yes." He says. "I know what you mean now."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"Can you feel it?" He whispers. The connection is a faint, buzzing thing. "Right here?" He taps his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________"Yes." Enjolras says again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________________They hold eye contact, Grantaire stares up at him, trying to convey his fear and longing. Enjolras strokes his hair back and returns the gaze, his own emotions bleeding through; uncertainty, nervousness, _want.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Silly Sentinel." Granatire chuckles and rolls his eyes, reading him like an open book. "My Sentinel." He corrects, and can't suppress the thrill those words give him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"My Guide." Enjolras replies. It echoes their words in the forest, and still gives Grantaire that bone-deep sense of contentedness, still settles something within him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Yes." He says. "Yours."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________*  
*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________Enjolras and Grantaire are something that they don't have to discuss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________They know, seemingly telepathically, the others exact location; are able to find each other with ease, coming up behind the others back and wrapping arms around their waist. They beckon each other over using no words, no signs - one just seems to know when the other is wanted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________They argue in tandem; their words feeing off each other until they reach a point of agreement. Sometimes they still don't - but Grantaire will grin impishly and Enjorlas will roll his eyes and that will be that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________They don't have to discuss them, they know what they are. A bonded pair, Sentinel and Guide._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Grantaire, could you do me a favour?" Enjolras asks distractedly, shuffling papers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Don't you know by now that I would do anything for you?" He grins widely, already reaching for the thing he knows Enjorlas is looking for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Could you pass - " Enjorlas stops, stumped, as he turns with an outstretched hand only to have the files placed directly in them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________He blinks. "Grantaire." He says again. "Could you do one more thing?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Anything." Grantaire states simply._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________"Kiss me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________He's still laughing as he presses their mouths together._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't think Enjolras would have gotten the clue was there not telepathy involved - either way, I promised a happy ending, right!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts and opinions! Anyone is welcome
> 
> I'm also Peasantaries on [Tumblr](https://peasantaries.tumblr.com/), [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/peasantaries), and [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/peasantaries/)! Come over and talk to me! I'll never bite <33


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